


Miss Your Misery

by Nell (twistedgeekgirl)



Series: The Broken Road Home [1]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: !PORN!, Angst, Cheating, Cheating with Kaner not on, Choking, Consensual Violence, Consent Issues, Dirty Talk, Hate!love sex, Johnny is a Bastard, M/M, Not Your Typical Happy Ending, Pain, Pining, Possessive Behavior, Questionable Consent, So much angst, Talk of Fisting, Violence, Violent Sex, autoerotic asphyxia, back away slowly, breath play, face fucking, not happy fic, safeword what safeword, so much badness, unhealthy relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-08
Updated: 2014-03-08
Packaged: 2018-01-14 23:29:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1282654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twistedgeekgirl/pseuds/Nell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Johnny isn't happy with his suburban perfect life.  He misses Patrick's misery.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So much pain. Just yeah. You have been warned shit ain't nice and fluffy. 
> 
> TRIGGERS: So many...  
> possible consent issues, read end notes for more details
> 
> So the theme song for this fic is Halestorm's "I Miss the Misery" if you know the song, you can imagine the oh fuck-ness that is in this fic. 
> 
> Not beta'd. All mistakes mine... need to find a beta... sigh.
> 
> I do not condone or agree with cheating. Hate it. But, it's the only way I could really see this fic actually playing out. Just so you know there is no sex between Johnny and OFC. She's not very involved, more of an issue than a character.

"Honey can you take out the trash?" Johnny's perfect wife Jane calls out.

"Sure honey. No problem." Johnny yells back pausing the game, to follow his wife's request.

***

"Sweetheart, can you help set the table please?" She asks hours later, when the afternoon has faded into evening. 

"No problem sweetheart." He responds, pausing his copy of the 2010 Stanley Cup Finals. 

***

"You're such a good husband." She coos later that night as they lay in bed, she's draped halfway over him. Kissing his cheek she snuggles deeper into his embrace. 

"You too." He murmurs back, his tone empty. 

***

"Johnny? What the fuck man it’s like three in the morning." Patrick groans blinking sleepily at his alarm.  
"Yeah, sorry. Look, I need a break man. Can I come for a visit?" Johnny asks quietly, his eyes focused on the closed door to his bedroom. 

"Yeah, sure man. Anytime, you know that. But seriously, couldn't this have waited until like, I don't know, normal people hours?" Patrick grumbles, pulling the pillow up over his head. 

"Yeah, I just. Look don’t tell anyone I asked you okay. I just need to, to breathe or something." Johnny says, his body coiled up tight. 

"Okay. Johnny, are you okay? Man what's wrong?" Patrick asks, a little more aware. Pulling his head back out from under his pillow.

"Talk about it later man. Just need to get away." Johnny says his tone relieved and some what excited.

"Awe, is life too hard out in suburbia? Perfect Jane getting you down man?" Patrick teases, but stops short when Johnny growls at him. 

"I said later. I'll email you my flight details." Johnny says then hangs up. He' s already at his computer booking the first flight out. He's in his closet a little while later when his wife wakes up.

"John? Honey?" She calls out walking into the closet to see Johnny packing a bag. 

"Hey Jane, um, Kaner called me and asked if I could come out for a visit for a couple days. He was drunk and just needs someone to talk to." Johnny lies, tossing a pair of old sweats into his bag. 

"Oh. Um. Okay, I guess we could go for a visit." She says, her face scrunching up a bit. It's never been a big secret that Jane didn't approve of anything Kaner related. 

"No. It's okay, I'm just gonna go for a couple days. Maybe get some of the other guys together. You know. Just hang out or whatever. You don’t have to go." Johnny says, maybe a little too quickly. But she just looks at him with a relieved smile. 

"Okay honey, now you don’t let him get you into any thing stupid." She says, grabbing him and pulling him into a mothering hug. 

"You know me." Johnny mutters, zipping up his suitcase. 

"When's your flight?" She asks, finally catching on that the sun hasn't even risen yet. 

"I gotta leave for the airport now. My cab should be here any minute." He says distracted as he goes over his mental checklist. 

"Wow, it's kind of sudden isn't it?" She asks, confusion scrunching her face. 

"Yeah, he was really messed up. Like in tears and shit. Sorry honey." Johnny apologizes for his slip of tongue. The look on her face is even more pinched than before. 

"Well okay. I guess. Just call and keep me updated." She murmurs, frowning. He leans down to kiss her quickly as a honk sounds from outside. 

*** 

"Johnny." Patrick calls out when he sees the brunette's head above the rest of the crowd. Johnny's face breaks out into a smile as he pulls Patrick into a bone crushing hug. "Dude, good to see you too, but I do still need my lungs to be able to play." Patrick chokes out, taking a gulping breath when Johnny finally lets him go. 

"Thanks man. I just needed a break." Johnny mutters, taking in his fill of Patrick. "Wow' you've really bulked up man." 

"Yeah the trainers have me on a really heavy schedule this summer." Patrick says over his shoulder as he leads the way to the baggage area. 

"Well obviously you've been sticking to it you look really good Pat." Johnny says, an odd tone in his voice. Patrick looks back at Johnny, his tone registering. 

"Johnny?" He croaks out. 

"Not here." He growls, grabbing his bag off of the carousel. Patrick's eyes widen as Johnny shoves him toward the exit.


	2. Chapter 2

The car ride is silent, and so full of tension Patrick is vibrating in his skin. The one time he attempted to start conversation Johnny glared him back into silence. It's probably the longest car ride they've ever been through together. When they get to Patrick's, he's barely gotten the car into park before Johnny is around the car pulling him out of the drivers side. 

He slams him into the side of the SUV, Patrick's head bouncing off glass of the backseat door. Johnny's already got his mouth and teeth buried in Patrick's throat. "Johnny. Wait. What." Patrick groans out trying to push Johnny off of him. Johnny just growls and digs in deeper. Patrick punches him in the stomach. Johnny recoils only long enough to grab Patrick's wrists and pin them above his head. 

"Johnny. What the fuck man?" He moans out, his breathing coming out in short pants, his hips thrusting absently against Johnny's hard frame.

"Need." Johnny whines, thrusting hard against Patrick. Patrick manages to get his wits about him and pulls his knee up, kneeing Johnny in the nuts. Hard. Johnny moans and comes, falling to the ground holding himself. 

"Jesus Fucking Christ Johnny!" Patrick yells wide eyed, putting space between himself and the curled up Johnny.

"Fuck." Johnny hisses out after a moment, his face flushed and breathing still labored. 

"Yeah no fucking shit. What the fuck Johnny." Patrick spits out, slamming the door to his house open, not even making sure the garage door is fully closed. 

Johnny takes a few moments to get himself put back together and able to stand without wincing before he goes in search of Patrick. Johnny finds him mumbling to himself pacing his living room, a bottle of something alcohol in his hands. 

"Kaner." Johnny calls out, reaching for the wound up blonde. But he jerks away from him, his mumbling growing louder, his pacing even more erratic and jumpy. "Patrick!" Johnny yells. Patrick stops mid rant to meet Johnny's eyes. 

"Johnny. What. The fuck. Was that?" Patrick asks, taking a huge gulp from the bottle in his shaking hands. For a moment Johnny feels sorry. 

"Patrick, please just sit down. I'm sorry. I just. I lost control." Johnny says reaching out for the jerky blonde. 

"You're damn fucking right you lost control. Three fucking years. Three fucking years. You can't just come and do that. " Patrick yells, swinging a fist in Johnny's direction, it misses him, but then he wasn’t really aiming. 

"I know Patrick. I'm sorry." Johnny says, his tone actually sorry now. Johnny sits on the couch and gestures for Patrick to sit. "Come on. I'm sorry. Let's talk okay." 

"Fuck you man. Three fucking years. You have no fucking right to do that anymore. Fuck you man." Patrick growls throwing himself onto the couch the furthest away from Johnny he can get. 

"I know. I'm sorry. Really I am. I just. Patrick." Johnny says broken lowering his head, as he yanks his hand through his hair roughly.

"Fine. Talk. Starting off on why the fuck you're here. You know I thought you were coming for a visit not to fuck me up again." Patrick spits out, taking another huge gulp from the now half empty bottle. 

"I'm sorry god damn it. Okay?" Johnny yells. 

"No! It's not fucking okay. Three fucking years Johnny." Patrick says nostrils flaring. "What’s so fucking wrong in perfect Johnny land that you had to come back and mess me up again man?" 

"I just couldn't take it anymore." Johnny says, his tone quiet. Patrick growls out something unintelligible but doesn’t speak, waiting for Johnny to continue instead. "I just needed. Fuck I don’t know."

"So what you thought you'd come and what vent your frustrations out on me? Then what Johnny. Then what? Do you forget you're the one who… who fucking. Fuck." Patrick yells flinging the bottle across the room at the unlit fire place. Watching jaw clenched as it shatters in the hearth.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have. I'll go. I just. I'm sorry." Johnny says getting to his feet, but Patrick is on his feet punching him in the gut before he can get any farther. 

"Fuck you. You don't get to come in here, and stir all this shit up and then fucking run. Fuck your I'm sorry's. Sit the fuck down and talk you bastard." Patrick says shoving the winded Johnny back down onto the couch, then straddles him. "I fucking hate you." He hisses before slamming his mouth onto Johnny's. The kiss is brutal, just the wrong side of painful. Patrick bites Johnny's lip so hard it bleeds. It's a battle of tongues and teeth and everything left undone between them. Their touches are bruising and the scratches break the skin. Patrick is grinding down so hard on Johnny they'll both be sore the next day. 

Patrick's hands make their way to Johnny's hair as his lips slide back down to Patrick's neck. He bites roughly on the tendons there, Patrick pulls Johnny's hair hard as he bites down on the juncture between Patrick's neck and collar bone. That spot always gets him, he comes fisting his hands tighter in Johnny's hair. 

"Come" Patrick commands as he yanks Johnny's hair so hard it snaps his head back. Johnny groans out a "Fuck" and then comes again. Patrick bolts off of Johnny's lap and slams his way into the bathroom to clean up. When Patrick comes out a while later Johnny is still on the couch where Patrick left him. 

"Go get a fucking shower. Then we're fucking talking about this shit." Patrick tells him, on his way to the kitchen. Johnny sits there dazed for a few minutes before getting up to go shower. 

He uses Patrick's bathroom knowing that the odds of there being anything of use in any of the other bathrooms in not in his favor. When he gets out he goes rummaging through Patrick's closet looking for something he might be able to fit. He's taken aback for a moment to find some of his old clothes still in one of his old drawers. His favorite hawks t-shirt quite a bit more threadbare than the last time he saw it. 

"Fuck." He mutters, only beginning to realize just how badly he's actually fucked up.


	3. Chapter 3

"Sit." Patrick tells him pointing to the stool at the breakfast bar. "Now. That is not going to happen ever a-fucking-gin. You got that. We're done. If that's what you came for, go the fuck back to your perfect life with your perfect wife." Patrick says, his back to Johnny. 

"No. I. uh." Johnny tries to talk but cant seem to find the words for what he wants to say. 

"Why are you here Johnny?" Patrick asks, shoulders slumped his voice quiet and almost broken sounding. 

"I woke up one morning and everything was wrong." Johnny sighs, absently fidgeting with the salt and pepper shakers on the bar. 

"What? How? Johnny. I can’t do this. You're fucking married, and you... fuck man." Patrick says slamming the pan down on the stove. "Look whatever. You're here, let's hang out, and in a couple days you go home to your wife, and we forget this ever fucking happened." Patrick says slamming a plate of scrambled eggs down in front of Johnny. 

"Yeah. Okay. Sure. I'm sorry." Johnny says then flinches at the hateful look on Patrick's face. 

"Three fucking years too late man." Patrick says, his face going pale and then red, as he realizes exactly what Johnny is wearing. 

"You’re not eating?" Johnny asks, gesturing to Patrick's lack of plate. 

"Not fucking hungry." He responds, slumping into the chair across from Johnny. 

"Oh, uh, okay." Johnny says, and then digs into the plate of eggs. 

"So. How's life?" Patrick asks, not really sure how to even start a conversation with everything so fucked between them. 

"Uh. It's. Good?" Johnny says, his tone questioning. 

"Obviously." Patrick mutters taking a gulp from his mug of coffee. They sit in awkward silence as Johnny finishes his eggs, then gets up to rinse his plate and put it in the dishwasher. Patrick would always bitch about how messy Johnny was, leaving dirty dishes in the sink and his clothes all over the floor.

"So she finally broke you of your lazy habits huh?" Patrick mocks, nodding his head at Johnny putting the dish up.

"No, I uh, remember how you hated it." Johnny mutters rolling his eyes. 

"Mmm, so Xbox?" Patrick offers, trying to find some sort of equilibrium. At Johnny's nod he heads into the living room only to come up short at the broken bottle littering the floor and fireplace. "Fuck." 

"I'll get it, you get the game set up." Johnny says softly turning back to the kitchen to grab the broom out of the pantry. Patrick sets up the game while Johnny disposes of the broken glass and wipes up the spilt alcohol. He looks up to see Patrick staring at him. A far off look in his eyes, he coughs slightly pulling Patrick back out of his headspace. 

"So I'm going to totally kick your ass." Patrick chokes out, attempting a halfhearted chirp.

"Prepare to lose fucker." Johnny says back. They spend the rest of the afternoon playing Xbox and only have one or two awkward moments where their hands brush reaching for a drink or playful jab lands somewhere bruised from their earlier encounter. 

It's dark outside when they turn off the game for some dinner. "How about General Quan's?" Johnny asks, leaning against the bar. 

"Uh, they closed down a while ago." Patrick gulps out, remembering the last time they'd had dinner there. Back when he thought they were something else. Something more. 

"Oh, uh, you pick then." Johnny says, but the damage was already done. The bit of normal they had managed to scrape out faded back into tension. 

"Sure. Uh, Bonner's is still open. Or we could just order Pizza." Patrick says, tossing an apple absently from hand to hand. 

"Yeah sure. Uh. Whatever's fine." Johnny says, then adds "I'm gonna grab my stuff from uh, the car." Patrick watches as Johnny all but runs from the room. He sighs heavily once banging his head on the counter before reaching for the phone to call in an order. 

After the pizza has been eaten, the beer drank and the mess tidied up they're back on the couch watching a movie. Johnny has no idea what's even going on because he's been too busy starring at Patrick and lost in his thoughts. "Okay creeper quit starring." Patrick mutters, shifting uncomfortably. 

"I. Uh. I don't know what's wrong. With me. Why I uh. Did what I did." Johnny says a while later. Patrick turns to face him, his face pinched. 

"Thought we were going to forget it ever happened." 

"I know. I just. I don't want to." Johnny says, chewing on his lower lip, eye brows drawn together. Patrick sighs once, turns off the TV then turns to fully face Johnny. 

"My therapist would probably tell you something about repressed feelings or something but I don’t know if I actually want to go down this road so can we just not." Patrick asks, eyebrow raised.

"Therapist?" Johnny asks quietly. 

"Yes, turns out after you fucked off to marry Perfect Jane, I had this Johnny sized hole in my life. Made one too many mistakes and wound up in therapy. Thanks for that by the way." Patrick mutters sullenly. 

"I, why didn't you ever say something? We were, are best friends." Johnny says slightly hurt. 

"Johnny, did you miss the part where you had your big gay freak out, stopped talking to me, went home for the summer and came back married? I'm pretty fucking sure that shit happened. As well as the last three years of us only having fuck all to do with each other because of hockey. " Patrick asks, his voice slightly sad but mostly pissed off. 

"I. I don't even have an excuse for that." Johnny sighs, hanging his head. 

"Look, whatever, it's over, it's done. We're over, we're done. Just let it go." Patrick sighs, than adds. "This has been a fuck awful kind of day, so I'm going to bed. I'll see you tomorrow yeah?" 

"Yeah, I'll be here, and Pat for what it's worth, I am sorry." Johnny says grabbing Patrick's hand giving it a quick squeeze. 

"Don't Johnny. Just. Please don’t." Patrick whispers pulling his hand out of Johnny's and heading to his room. 

Sleep doesn’t come easy for Jonny that night, and when he finally drifts off to sleep he's tormented with the past.


	4. Chapter 4

"Fuck Johnny, harder." Patrick groans, arching his back trying to get Johnny deeper in him. Johnny's hands are going to leave bruises, but he doesn’t even care. God he needed this. He moans shamelessly as Johnny grabs a handful of his curls and yanks back hard. 

"I'm going to fill you up and then watch as my cum drips out of you Pat. Make you stand there as little by little it seeps from your hole. Watch as it makes you filthy, you little slut." Johnny growls, wrapping his hand tightly around Patrick's weeping cock. 

"Gonna take my fingers and shove them in you. Stretch you out until I can fit my whole hand. You want that don’t you?" Johnny asks pulling Patrick's back flush against him. He wraps his hand around Patrick's throat choking him slightly. 

"Yes Johnny. Please." Patrick chokes out. Johnny lets go of his throat and Patrick comes with his first gulp of air. Jonny comes shortly after, the contractions of Patrick's hole sending him over the edge as well. 

Patrick wakes up spent and alone in his bed. "Fuck." He groans, he hasn’t had dreams that intense in a long time. There's a knock at his door. "Double fuck." He mutters then barks out. "What?"

"I. uh. You alright?" Johnny asks through the closed door. 

"Yeah, just fucking peachy." Patrick mutters then answers, "Yeah. I'm fine. Go back to sleep Johnny." 

"Oh, uh. Okay. Good night Pat." Johnny says quietly. 

"Fuck you Johnny." Patrick mutters softly, stripping off his boxers, and the soiled sheets from his bed. He lays awake for the rest of the night unable to find sleep.

***  
The next morning finds the both of them subdued and quiet. Johnny is inhaling coffee when Patrick blearily stumbles his way into the kitchen. Johnny hands him a mug, slightly sheepish. "I uh, made you a cup when I heard you get up." 

"Thanks." Patrick mutters, taking the proffered cup and trudging off to the living room. Johnny follows him after refilling his own mug. 

"So, I think we should fuck." Johnny says, casually. Patrick chokes on his coffee and turns murderous eyes on Johnny. 

"I fucking told you, No." Patrick growls out, nostrils flaring. 

"Just hear me out. We, I, because of my stupidity we never had closure." Johnny says, licking his lips nervously. 

"I finally move on with my life. I finally get past us, and you want closure now? Johnny are you fucking kidding me?" Patrick yells, slamming his mug down on the coffee table. 

"Pat." Johnny starts but is cut off by a ferocious yell from Patrick. 

"Don't fucking call me that. You have no fucking right. Fuck you Johnny. Just fuck you." Patrick yells at him flinging himself at Johnny, a couple of blows landing successfully on Johnny. Johnny see stars for a moment as one blow lands perfectly in his eye socket. 

"Pat. Stop." Johnny says trying to stop Patrick's flailing blows. 

"Fuck you Johnny. Fuck you so fucking hard." Patrick yells, and something in him breaks. He just collapses onto Johnny, all fight gone out of him. It's then that Johnny realizes that Patrick is crying, gut wrenching sobs crying. 

"Pat. It's okay Pat. I got you. I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry." Johnny whispers holding a sobbing Patrick and hating himself that much more. After Patrick has stopped and is no longer even hiccupping, he pulls away from Johnny. 

"You fucked me up Johnny." He says softly. "You made me your own special brand of broken and then you left me. Not even a fuck off. Just left in the middle of the fucking night and I heard nothing till training camp. You acted like everything was fine. Like nothing ever happened." 

"I freaked out. I was in over my head and you were talking about us in the forever way and I balked." Johnny says, ashamed of himself.

"I thought we had something Johnny. I thought we were going somewhere and then Perfect Jane." Patrick spits out his eyes on fire. "You wanna fuck. Fine, but I'm gonna make it hurt. I'm gonna hurt you. Make you think of me every time you slide into your perfect little wife. Gonna make you miss me choking on your dick while you fuck my face. This is your last chance, let it go or I’ll make it hurt."

"Make it hurt. It's already you anyway." Johnny whispers then groans as Patrick drags his nails down Johnny's arms. 

"Gonna fuck you up. Rip you open and make you bleed. But first you're gonna fuck my face. Make me choke on your dick." Patrick growls, moving from Johnny's lap to the floor on his knees. 

"Wait. Not here." Johnny says, putting a hand on Patrick's shoulder. 

"I'll fuck you on my front lawn if I want." Patrick hisses, twisting Johnny's hand painfully. "This isn't about you Johnny, not this fucking time." 

Patrick pulls down the sweat pants with little help from Johnny. He's semi hard. "Please our room." Johnny asks desperately. Patrick bites his thigh hard enough to draw blood. 

"Not our room. Never again." Patrick hisses before he swallows Johnny down whole. It doesn’t take long to get Johnny's dick with the program. But Johnny holds back, keeps his hands from Patrick's hair, his hips still. Patrick pulls off. "Get with the fucking program or get the fuck out. This is the last time you'll ever get to call me Pat." 

That does it for Johnny. He grabs Patrick by the hair and shoves his mouth back on to his dick, choking him in the process. "Pat." He moans, Patrick moans in response his jaw slack as Johnny pounds into his mouth choking him every so often. Just as he's about to come he shoves Patrick all the way down on his dick, coming down his throat. He holds him there until he's soft. Pulling Patrick off of him and dragging him up by his hair. 

He slams him into the nearest wall, pinning his hands above his head. "So good Pat. Such a good little mouth. Could fuck it forever." Patrick kicks out at him.

"Fuck your forever's." He hisses, moaning as Johnny bites down on the soft underside of one of his pinned arms. Johnny spins him then, shoving him face down over the breakfast bar. He pulls Patrick's pants and boxers down in one movement leaving them trapped around his knees. Reaching around he shoves his fingers into Patrick's mouth. "Get em wet for me Pat. Good and wet." 

Patrick sucks them until they're sloppy, spit dripping from his mouth pooling on the counter. Johnny pulls his fingers out and slams one straight into Patrick. He wails, almost screaming at the burning intrusion. "So fucking tight Pat." He croons as he slams his finger in and out of Patrick's hole. "This is mine Pat." He hisses into Pats ear as he slams another finger into him. 

"Fuck you Johnny. Fuck you." Patrick wails, kicking out at Johnny again. Johnny pulls his fingers out to spank Patrick across the ass. 

"No baby. I'm gonna fuck you." He say's raring back for another smack. He slaps Patrick's ass another five times before he spits on his fingers and goes back to slamming them into Patrick. "This is mine. It's always been mine. It will always be mine." He murmurs hitting Patrick's prostate, he screams and comes in response. Johnny stops moving his fingers, enjoying the feel of Patrick clenching around him. "So good baby, so fucking good." Johnny murmurs. Releasing Patrick's wrists to pet his hair. 

"Fuck you and your baby shit Johnny." Patrick croaks, then cries out as Johnny slams into his prostate again. After a moment or two Johnny starts moving his fingers again.

"Have you fucked anyone else?" Johnny asks, nipping lightly on Patrick's ear. 

"Like you'd have fucking cared." Patrick grits out, keening as Johnny once again slams into his prostate. 

"This is mine Pat. Have you fucked anyone else?" He growls using his free hand to pull Patrick's head up off the counter. 

"Fuck…" Patrick starts to say but trails off as Johnny starts pounding into his prostate, hitting it on every thrust. 

"That's right baby. I'm gonna fuck you so good. Now answer me." Johnny growls licking the shell of his ear. 

"No." He moans brokenly. 

"Oh Pat. My Pat. Baby." He croons pulling his fingers out of Patrick's ass. He yanks him off of the bar by his hair forcing him to his knees. "Get me wet Pat." He says, using Patrick's hair to guide him to his dick. Patrick gets him as wet as his mouth will allow. "I'm gonna fill you up." Patrick moans as Johnny chokes him once then pulls him off. He drags Patrick back up and starts dragging him down the hall. 

"Fuck you Johnny. Not there." Patrick says, his voice hoarse.

"It started there I'm going to end it there Pat. Now come on baby." Johnny croons shoving Patrick bodily down the hall to what was once their bedroom. The closer they get to the bedroom the more of a fight Patrick puts up. 

"No Johnny." He says, swinging out at Johnny. Johnny catches his fist and twists his arm up behind his back. Shoving him the rest of the way into the bedroom. Most of the fight goes out of Patrick the moment they enter the room. 

"Pat. Baby, come on." Johnny says softly, stripping off Patrick's shirt and then removing the pants still around his ankles. Then strips off the rest of his clothes. 

"Why?" Patrick rasps out, broken. 

"You wanted me to hurt." Johnny says, reaching into the bedside table for the lube he knows is there. He pulls Patrick gently to him laying him out on the bed. He crawls over Patrick, kissing him softly. All the roughness and pain, replaced with tenderness and gentle caresses. "Pat." He whimpers as he covers Patrick with his body. Shuddering as Patrick wraps his arms around Johnny pulling him tight. 

"Johnny." Patrick whispers softly. As Johnny covers every inch of Patrick's skin with soft kisses. He grabs the lube from where he'd put it on the bed, and places it into Patrick's hands. 

"It's your choice." Johnny murmur's kissing him until they're both gasping for air. 

"Please." Patrick whimpers, handing the lube back to Johnny. 

"Are you sure Pat? We can go back out to the living room." Johnny says, resting his head in the crook of Patrick's neck. 

"No, do it." Patrick says quietly, his tone final.

"What do you want me to do. Do you want to fuck me?" Johnny asks, laying soft kisses all along Patrick's neck. 

"No. Johnny. Please." Patrick whimpers his hips thrusting up into Johnny. Johnny pulls his head out from Patrick's shoulder.

"Where?" Johnny asks, locking eyes with Patrick. 

"H-here." Patrick stutters out. 

"Okay baby." Johnny says then starts kissing his way down Patrick's body. When he reaches Patrick's dick he gives it a soft kiss before trailing his tongue down the shaft, between his balls and then to Patrick's puckered hole. Patrick makes to roll over but Johnny holds him down. "No Pat. This way." He whispers brokenly.

He takes his time stretching Pat out coating his fingers with ample amounts of lube and his tongue. He's up to four fingers before Patrick starts begging him. "Johnny please. Just. Please just fuck me already." 

"Okay baby." He says, making his way back up to Patrick's mouth. He kisses him softly as he's coating his dick with lube. He settles between Patrick's legs, lifting one leg enough to be able to slide in. Dropping the leg he covers Patrick's body with his again and starts a slow languorous rhythm. 

He kisses Patrick slow and tenderly, licking into his mouth tasting every surface. While his hips keep a slow rhythm, his hands are wrapped in Patrick's, fingers crossed, holding hands. Patrick begins whimpering again as Johnny hit's his prostate with every slide in. 

He's a begging mess, trying to thrust up harder into Johnny. "Please Johnny." Patrick whispers. But Johnny shakes his head "Not until you say it." 

"Please." Patrick tries again, but Johnny just keeps his slow thrusting rhythm. After a dozen or so more thrusts, Patrick finally gives in. "Please, baby." He whispers softly. Johnny shudders, buries his face in Patrick's neck to stifle a sob, and speeds up. "Come on baby." 

Johnny comes as Patrick whispers into his ear. "Come for me baby." He's still crying, even as he empties into Patrick. Patrick reaches down for his own dick but Johnny stops him. 

"No, your turn." Johnny says, his voice raspy from tears. He rolls off of Patrick and gets on his hands and knees. Patrick lays there for a moment stunned and then get to his knees and reaches for the lube, but Johnny stops him. 

"Make it hurt if you still want to." He whispers. Patrick grabs up the lube anyway coating his fingers before sliding one into Johnny. 

"Baby." Patrick chokes out, rubbing Johnny's back softly with his free hand. He spends longer than he needs to stretching Johnny out. He wants to remember this. His last first time, he doesn't want to forget how tightly Johnny's body clenches around his fingers or how Johnny keeps making these soft whimpers as he thrusts back on to Patrick.  
Patrick pulls his fingers out, rolling Johnny onto his back. 

Johnny is starring up at him eyes wide and wet, his face flushed from arousal and tears. He watches Johnny's face closely as he edges into him. Johnny closes his eyes at one point and tries to hide his face. Patrick gently grabs his chin, murmuring. "Look at me baby." When Patrick is fully seated he leans down to kiss Johnny. Giving him a moment or two to adjust. 

He starts off with shallow thrusts, inching his way in and out. Eyes on Johnny every moment, every thrust. When he hits Johnny's prostate for the first time, Johnny jerks up off the bed and groans, eyes rolling into the back of his head. "Pat." 

"Yeah baby?" Patrick asks, speeding up his thrusts a little more. 

"I… fuck… oh god. Pat." Johnny moans out, gasping as Patrick brushes his prostate on a thrust. Patrick speeds up, making every other thrust brush Johnny's prostate. 

"Baby I can't hang on much longer." Patrick murmurs into Johnny's neck as he wraps his hand around Johnny's dick. "Come on baby. Come for me." He whispers and then feels Johnny tighten up, coming all over his hand. Patrick gets a couple more thrusts in before he's coming, and then collapsing on top of Johnny. He mumbles something indecipherable into Johnny's neck, then kisses it softly. He pulls slowly out of Johnny and after a moment he goes to move, but Johnny just holds him in place. 

"Not yet please." Johnny whispers. They fall asleep like that, Patrick on top of Johnny, his come stuck between them. Johnny wakes long before Patrick does. He lays there holding Patrick to him, who at some point had shifted off of him and instead wrapped himself around Johnny.

He knows the moment Patrick wakes up, his body going stiff under Johnny's trailing hand. Johnny keeps his hand on Patrick's back, as he relaxes back into Johnny. They lay there for a while before the need to clean themselves over powers their desire to have this last moment.

Patrick pulls away first. Not meeting Johnny's eyes. "I, uh, need to get cleaned up." 

"Yeah uh, me too." Johnny says, rolling out of bed on the other side. Patrick goes into his bathroom closing the door behind him. Johnny goes into the guest bathroom. Johnny stands In front of the mirror surveying the damage. Hickeys, bite marks, bruises, scratches, a black eye, his ass hurt, but surprisingly in a nice way. Kind of like a constant reminder of what they'd done, what Patrick had done.


	5. Chapter 5

He showers and then retreats to the guest room to sleep off the rest of the day and maybe even the night, he leaves the door open just in case Patrick wants to talk. Somewhere around nine at night he wakes up his stomach growling. He heads to the kitchen, but stops in the living room. Patrick is sitting in the chair that faces the lake. Johnny would have passed him by sitting in the dark, if he hadn't received a text. 

"So." Johnny starts, starling Patrick out of his thoughts. 

"Hey Johnny." Patrick replies, looking up at him a somber look on his face. 

"Have you eaten?" Johnny asks, squatting down to the floor beside Patrick. 

"Yeah, there's stuff for a sandwich." Patrick says, look back out onto the lake. 

"Pat…" Johnny starts but is abruptly cut off by Patrick.

"No Johnny. Not Pat. That's over now. You got your closure, now stop it." Patrick sighs out, his tone is full of something Johnny cant place. 

"Yeah. Okay." Johnny says long after his legs have gone to sleep, his knees are killing him. Johnny rises and heads in the direction of the kitchen. Johnny makes himself a sandwich, making sure to clean up after himself. Johnny doesn’t even taste the food as he eats it. When he makes his way back into the darkened living room Patrick is gone.

***

Patrick manages to avoid Johnny for most of the next day. Even though Johnny knows Patrick is in the house somewhere, he hadn't been able to find him. It isn’t until a couple of hours before Johnny's flight home that Patrick stops hiding. He's sitting out on the back deck watching as the sunsets when Johnny sits down beside him. 

"Feeling better?" Patrick asks, his tone the same confusing mix of something from the night before.

"In some ways yes, but I'm even more fucked on so many others." Johnny murmurs honestly, turning his eyes from the sun setting on the lake to watch Patrick. Patrick hmms in response his eyes never leaving the water. Quiet settles around them as the day fades away into night.

"I'd have given up hockey for you." Patrick says, turning to look at Johnny. "For me it was you and hockey." 

"Pat. Patrick, I'm sorry." Johnny says, not entirely sure what to say. 

"When's your flight?" Patrick asks his eyes turning back out onto the lake. Face set in grim determination. 

"Plane leaves at ten." Johnny says then continues a few moments later. "But I could always change it." 

"No Johnny, it's time for you to go home." Patrick says, rising from his chair and heading into the house. Johnny follows him wanting to spend the rest of his time there together. "Here." Patrick says hefting a previously unnoticed Blackhawks duffle. 

"What?" Johnny asks confused, hesitant to take the bag. 

"It's all the stuff you had left here." Patrick says shaking the bag in Johnny's direction. "It's finally all over." Johnny's eyes snap to Patrick's face. His eyes are slightly glassy and his face is red.

"Pat." Johnny tries, pushing past the bag to get closer to Patrick. "We'll never be over." 

"Johnny, for me we are. Go home to your wife. Make the family you always wanted. Invite me over occasionally for BBQ's. and dinner parties. But, move on. I used to think that I was the only one stuck in some sort of limbo, but I see now that's not the case. So do yourself a favor, go home knock up your wife and forget we were ever anything more than teammates." Patrick says stepping away from Johnny, and placing the packed bag at Johnny's feet. 

Johnny crowds back into Patrick's space. The moment heavy and tense between them. "You're cab should be here soon. I'm gonna go on to bed. Can you lock the door behind you when you leave?" Patrick reaches out to cradle Johnny's cheek, his hands cold against the Johnny's flushed skin. "Goodbye baby." He whispers, laying a soft kiss to Johnny's mouth then pulls away. "Johnny, I'll see you at training camp. Take care of yourself." He nods then flees the room.

Johnny grabs his already packed bags and waits dazedly by the front door for the cab. His mind flying in so many different directions he can't settle on one thing. But there is one thing he knows for sure and he tells the empty foyer before he shuts the door. "I'm sorry Pat, but I'll never be able to let you go."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So in case I didn't express the reasons for Patrick's anger at the use of Pat and Baby, here's the reasons. Back when they were a thing Johnny always called him 'Pat', and in private Patrick always called Johnny 'Baby'. Which is why Patrick was so angry about Johnny using those names on him. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed. Thanks.

**Author's Note:**

> There is more than one questionable consent scene involved. Patrick is not forced, he could actually get away if he wanted. In one scene in the beginning he does in fact 'get away'. Johnny is trying to get something started and gets his nuts smashed for it. 
> 
> TRIGGERS:  
> possible consent issues, choking, face fucking, talk of fisting, barebacking, cheating, violent sex, violence, dirty talk, biting, getting knee'd in the balls, scratching, I may have missed a few. These are the major ones I can remember.
> 
> So yeah this fic came out of way left field for me. I like writing angst and pining, and maybe a little rough sex but. I blame the song...


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